It’s OK, it’s love

He asked, “What’s the one thing you’re most afraid of?”

“My mind,” I answered.

He said, “me too.”

Petrified, I asked, “mine or yours?”

“Yours,” he nonchalantly said, his eyes never leaving mine.

Before my heart could hit the floor, he shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and quickly added, “But that’s okay.”

I believed him.

No, not his words per se. It was his eyes… but also something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

There was just something about his eyes. At first I loved the fact that his eyes never lied. But every now and then he would lie to spare my feelings, or just lie as human nature. But his eyes, they would always betray him. In those moments, I wished he could be a better liar, if only to spare myself the pain of his truth.

And then it hid me.

“Your eyes,” I said. “They’re my favorite thing about you.”

He smiled and said, “I know.”

He sure did.

The Alamond Affair (sneak peek 2)

By now I had Caroline’s full attention. I could have asked her to secure me a water bed in my holding cell and she could have returned with a bed strong and comfortable enough to accommodate a wanton Duke with twelve mistresses in one seating.

A Villain in Distress

You’re like a storm begging to be a light shower on a sunny day
You picture yourself a haven for a lover’s bliss
Yet it’s so cold under your arms

You’re like a back up singer discontent with the darkness over his head
You fancy yourself a leading role
Yet you shiver under the spotlight

You’re like a little boy dressed in superman’s costume
You think yourself the damsel’s hero
But in your eyes it’s a villain she sees

She’s like the calm you feel before the storm
She carries herself like a butterfly
But there are spines under her wings

He, a villain in distress
And she, a damsel in armor

Stay, if you must

In her quest for happiness, Diomeda once borrowed a leaf from Doctor Faustus’ pages and sold her soul for a bed of rosses. She held hands with Zeus and slow-danced to his tune under the fleeting moon’s shadow. Like a flower, she beautifully blossomed into his most favorite kind of sin.

Ecstasy.

On Days Like These

On most days I needed him
Not in the way people need water, or food, or oxygen
I needed him like I needed tomorrow
Something I had no control over, yet I longed to behold desperately

On certain days I wanted him
Not in the way people want chocolate, or cars, or beer
I wanted him like I wanted yesterday
Something I had already had, but pined to have repeatedly

On days like today I’m drawn to him
Not in the way people are drawn to familiar places or things
I’m drawn to him like a magnet
Like a last piece of a puzzle that knows exactly where it belongs

Everyday I fall for him
Not in the way people fall  for deceptions or illusions
I’m falling because it’s that easy
Like two hearts in sync and forever tuned to lover’s songs

The Alamond Affair (Sneak peek 1)

“I met the girl in Alamond, ” I explained to the sheriff , a short pot-bellied man who wore a perpetual frown on his face like he was mad at the world for allowing his mother to mate with his godforsaken father. I have known men to bond over such commonalities, but I was beyond rédemption when it came to this particular man. He was a necessary evil in my story. Had my mother been any wiser, she would have locked herself in the house and ovulated in peace thirty-two years ago. This catastrophe could have been avoided.